Waiting Between Breaths
by Aerilon452
Summary: John comes back to the Sanctuary and watches Helen at her desk. This is an alternate ending for Pax Romana.


Summary: John comes back to the Sanctuary and watches Helen at her desk. This is an alternate ending for Pax Romana.

Disclaimer: I own nothing of Sanctuary.

Rating: T

Pairing: Helen and John

**WAITING BETWEEN BREATHS: **

John saw her then, sitting alone, just reading a book. Her hair was pulled back revealing her face to the sun streaming down on her. She looked like an angel trapped in human form. The celestial light radiating from her soul refused to dim. This was Helen Magnus; the woman John Druitt never stopped loving. He stood just on the threshold of her office watching her. John wanted to go to her, wanted to let her know that he was here. But for some reason all he could do was stare at her. Shifting his weight John braced his shoulder against the door jam, resting his temple on the wood while he watched her. As John stood there he saw the split instant that Helen realized she was being watched. Her body froze and her head tilted up and her eyes locked with his.

Helen had had the sense she was being watch, but this was the sanctuary, eyes were everywhere. Only this stare was more intense, pensive. Looking away from her book she saw John leaned against the door jam. She had the sudden urge to rush to him, but she squashed it down. Instead she rose, and slowly walked to him. As she came to stand in front of him John backed up and stood at the other side of her door with the same position; he was leaning against the wall. "John?"

"Helen," He whispered her name as if prayer were passing from his lips. She was his miracle, his angel of mercy still. Idly his wrists ached with pain still lingering from his temporary incarceration by the infuriating Adam Worth. "I had…" John cleared his throat. "Are you well?"

Helen was stunned. John was asking after her well being. The last time he had done that he had been in the grips of madness. "Yes, I'm fine." She cast her gaze down, intent on looking at the floor, but red caught her attention. John's wrists were red and raw; rope burns. "What happened to you?" She reached out to him, but he pulled his hands back. Helen could sense he didn't want her to touch him, not his wrists.

"Adam," John growled out the name. He had taken delight in making that man feel every ounce of pain he could before his mind went black. Something had happened to him and when he came to Adam was gone, the transported was gone, and Adam's two little minions were also gone. John didn't know what had happened. All he knew was that he blacked out.

"What did you do to him?" Helen inquired reaching for his right wrist. This time John did not refuse her. She tentatively examined the raw angry wounds that had yet to heal on him. Why was he healing so slowly? Had Adam done something to John? Was he now dying as she had been? Those questions ate at her for she had no answer to any of them.

"I don't remember; the rage was clouding my mind." John spoke looking past Helen. "I remember hauling him out of the transporter he was in, grabbing his shoulder where the bullet wound was, and then I vaguely remember writing something." John shook his head, stepping closer to Helen. Her hand felt so soft on his wrist. The pain that refused to abate was now leaving under her tender touch.

Helen lightly ran her thumb over a patch of red skin, instantly seeing his skin turn pale, and healed. It never ceased to amaze her how only her touch had the power to heal John. Gently, while they were still alone, Helen wrapped her hand around John's right wrist and waited for a few seconds. "I wanted to thank you." She whispered before releasing her hold on his wrist smiling gently.

"I didn't ask you to heal me," John grumbled and fought back a smile in response to Helen's "But thank you. I'm grateful for your healing touch." Against common sense, against the barrier they had between them, John reached out and brushed his fingertips down her face. Before he could take his hand back Helen grasped his wrist and held his hand to her face; his palm cupping her face. "What could you possibly be thanking me for?" John inquired choosing now to follow her line of conversation.

"For coming after me in Hollow Earth," Helen answered. When she had seen his blood scrawled message, Helen knew that John had come after her, come to protect her. That knowledge socked her in the gut. John was always coming after her when she got in over her head. He never left her alone, even if sometimes that was what she wanted from him.

"You never have to thank me for that." John rubbed his thumb over her cheek, "I couldn't think knowing that your life might have been in peril." John took that final step closing her in with his body. "Worth said you would be in danger that you could die. He knew how to play me, to take him back to the city." Leaning his forehead to hers John breathed her in.

Helen looked John's right wrist over to make sure she hadn't missed any of the red angry flesh; she hadn't. Then she repeated the action with his left wrist. Adam must have kept John tied up. "Is there anywhere else that needs healing?" She asked knowing that John would have more injuries that haven't healed. Here he was before her and Helen carried no thoughts of how he might harm her or how she could defend herself. All she saw was John Druitt.

Without meaning to John let his left shoulder slump under the throbbing pain that had yet to flee with his advanced healing from the Source Blood. It seemed that his body had been waiting for Helen's unique touch, her unique talent that worked on no one but him. For this he was grateful. "Has your healing touch ever worked on another?" He couldn't stop from asking; he had to know.

"No," Helen smiled gently, "Only on you." Taking his hand Helen tugged him along behind her towards the room she had prepared for him whenever she needed his help. With each step they took Helen's mind screamed out reasons she should tell John to leave, for him to get away from her. But all that paled in comparison to the overwhelming need Helen felt whenever she saw John, whenever he stalked towards her, whenever he fought with her, and whenever he lent her his silent support. Helen could count on John to be there, if she called. He was a constant; always coming and going, and coming again. He swept into her life like a raging storm, shook her around, then left again before he could see the damage he did to her. For all of that, it was what kept her satisfied; their silent war of wills.

"That warms my black little heart," He growled gently keeping step with her. John saw the barest hit of a shiver at his tone break out over her. That pleased him too, only he wouldn't comment. There was nothing, well almost nothing; John wouldn't say to get a reaction from her just to know that she still responded to him. Which Helen did and she hid it under outrage, disdain, and mild annoyance when she couldn't hide the amusement. Though, this time she didn't try to hide form him. She was openly touching him, holding his hand. She was leading him to the room she kept for him.

"You're heart isn't black John. It's just lost in the dark." Helen stopped at a door she had not been in front of in months; it was the room she kept for John against a better sense of judgment. Reaching out with her free hand she grasped the knob and was about to turn it when John set his hand on top of hers as well. She turned her head to stare at his profile, stare into eyes that still held her interest after so long. Together they turned the knob opening the door.

John angled his body around Helen's so he was the first to enter and it allowed him to draw her inside. She leaned her head to the side, smirked, but allowed John to pull her close. "What do you want me to do?" John loosened his hold on her hand but kept his body close to hers.

"Take your shirt off and sit on the bed." Helen answered knowing John would comply. She watched as he opened button after button, slow and torturous to her eyes. There was the urge to bite her bottom lip to keep her from wanting to nibble along his jaw, his neck, and down to his shoulder. Her eyes settled on his left shoulder where the flesh should have been pale and perfect. Instead it was red with dried blood showing where wounds had partially scabbed over. Going to him, Helen took her seat on his left side placing her right hand palm down on the warm wounds. As when she had healed him last there was a warm tingle in her fingers and her palm that told her she was taking away his pain.

John sucked in a sharp breath at the warmth spreading out through his body from Helen's healing touch. It was a closely guarded secret between them and James while they let the others believe that she had only gained longevity. Momentarily John's heart sank at the thought of Watson, a long lost friend, lover, fellow brother of knowledge. What would James say if he could see John and Helen now? Would the esteemed Doctor Watson tell them to go a head and sleep together again? Would Watson tell them to act like adults? Or would Watson simply smile at them knowing that time would bring them back together. That brought a smile to John's lips. His brilliant, sometimes emotionally delicate James Watson was the only man he had ever thought about loving had Helen rejected him.

"What are you smiling at?" Helen asked holding her hand to John's shoulder just a few more minutes to make sure all the lacerations were healed. She had seen the ghost of a smile flit across his lips before it was gone. Maybe John was thinking about her. Maybe he was thinking about Watson. Neither of the men were ever far from her thoughts on any given day when she did something that reminded her of one or the other.

"Just thinking about James and what he would have to say about seeing us like this?" John answered feeling suddenly weary. He rested the side of his head against Helen's. A light rumbling laugh sound in his chest.

"He'd probably be brash and tell us to just sleep together again… while Tesla was in ear shot." Helen laughed as well. Taking her hand away from his shoulder she saw his pale perfect, almost living alabaster skin, intact without a mark. On pure familiar instinct Helen laid her lips to his shoulder just to feel the smoothness she saw with her eyes. She could feel his skin tingling where her hand had been.

"Helen…don't…" John warned, his voice faltering with the feeling of her lips on his skin. They were lips he had dreamed about, wanted to feel again, but he couldn't handle this. His anger was still too close to the surface after Adam left him to be lunch. John didn't want that anger to infect Helen, to hurt her again.

"You're safe with me John." She moved to straddle his lap. "We'll only go this far." Helen whispered mere inches from his lips as she too pulled off her shirt revealing a black camisole tucked into the waist band of her slacks. "I just want to feel you." Her arms draped over his shoulders, hands cupping the back of his head.

John slowly rested his hands at her hips keeping her close. "I do not want to hurt you," He rasped out, his breathing going ragged while his heart thundered in his ears. As gentle as he thought he could be John ran his hands over her hips, up her back, so he could tangle his hands in her hair.

"You won't," Helen whispered kissing his temple, moving down to kiss the scar she had left on him so many years ago. Helen felt the now smooth texture of the scar with her tongue. The feel of it was so different that what she had felt with her fingers. John's fingers tightened in her hair sharply, an order to stop.

"Helen…" John gasped, "My control is slipping under that wicked tongue of yours." He growled, trying to be menacing, but not pulling it off.

Helen leaned back with a wry smile gracing her lips, "Wicked you say? I could show you wicked." She laughed at the way John's eyes rolled back in his head with his eyelids fluttering closed.

"And for all these years, you've said I was the evil one darling." John rumbled letting wicked images play out in his mind of what Helen could do with that tongue of hers.

"You are evil." She nipped his jaw, "Positively devilish." Helen laughed at the look of desire in John's eyes at her whispered playful words.

**THE NEXT MORNING:**

Will Zimmerman walked into his boss's office to see Helen Magnus curled in one corner of the couch looking very pleased with herself. She was just staring off into space, not even noticing him. Something wasn't right with this picture. Taking a few seconds he took stock of her appearance. Being that it was a Saturday morning she wore a comfortable pair of black slacks, sandals, and a loose fitting button up shirt that looked more like a mans shirt than anything. Before he could say anything Druitt strolled in from the other entrance carrying two cups bearing tea; the drink of choice for the Five.

"Hello, young William." Druitt greeted feeling in good spirits for the first time in a long while.

"Druitt," Will looked to Helen to gauge her reaction. She seemed unconcerned. "Didn't know you were here."

"Ah, yes, well you wouldn't." John sat down near Helen handing her the cup of tea he had fixed. After he woke up this morning he felt oddly tranquil with Helen lying beside him, her head pillowed on his shoulder.

"Great. So, Magnus I was wondering if…"

Helen took the first sip of her tea and sighed. "Will, take the day off. I'm sure there is something that you want to be doing rather than paperwork." Helen didn't know what was coming over her, but she wanted this day to spend with John while he was still himself without the creatures influence. She had already sent Henry and Kate off. Her man servant was somewhere down on the lower levels. Nikola was no where to be found, which suited Helen just fine. Now all that was left was to get rid of Will.

"Are you sure?" Will asked slowly inching towards the door. If she was serious he wanted to make a break for it. Abby was off and she had asked about spending the day with her.

"Yes, Will, I am. Now go have a good morning." Magnus motioned towards the door waiting for her friend to leave. As soon as Will cleared the door Helen set aside her cup of tea once again curled into John's side. "Now this is a good way to spend a Saturday morning."

John kissed the top of her head chuckling lightly. This was how they used to spend their Saturday's when not being bothered by Nigel, or Nikola, and when James wasn't telling them of the latest case he had solved. "It brings back so many memories." John whispered just hugging her closer. For today he was sane, he was free, and for today they were just together.

**THE END.**


End file.
